Christmas in New Jersey

It was just another Christmas Eve in Pittsburgh in the year of our Lord, 1956. The snow was coming down in a light flurry as Patrick Sullivan opened up his pub around noon. To his surprise, his two best friends were waiting outside the door for the clock to strike twelve. “Next time ring the bell,” Patrick said with a smile as he blew warmth into his hands. “Kate and I have been getting the place ready for the past hour. If we had known you two were out here in this cold, we would have opened up earlier.” “No need,” said Mel Sharpe, a floor supervisor at U.S. Steel. “Oliver and I have been watching the winter ballet that the old north wind’s been kicking up for the last ten minutes.” “It really puts me in the holiday spirit,” added Oliver Ditson, the head of maintenance at the University of Pittsburgh. “Besides, the wife doesn’t want me drinking before noon on my day off, even if the Steelers are playing an early game.” As his two childhood friends crossed the threshold into Sullivan’s, Patrick caught a glimpse of Mother Nature’s latest work. A new layer of white covered the street with the delicate touch of a baker’s final layer of frosting on a wedding cake. Above the swirling flurry of the snow, he could see the steeple of St. Mary’s in the distance. Through the light howl of the wind he could just make out the sound of the noon bells. Yes indeed, it certainly was the best time of the year. Peace on earth and goodwill toward man.